


Summary Executions 2 - Stargate: Atlantis

by cupidsbow



Series: Summary Executions [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crime, Ficlet, Historical, M/M, PWP, Snark, cupidsbow, series:summary-executions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-22
Updated: 2008-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidsbow/pseuds/cupidsbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets written to prompt: 18th Century; Crime; Film Set; Legal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summary Executions 2 - Stargate: Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
>   * sonadorita asked for "18th century AU"   
> 
>   * watersword asked for "SGA-as-master-criminals"  
> 
>   * kinetikatrue asked for "Rodney as the owner of/mastermind behind a line of specialty beauty products (like LUSH) - citrus free, naturally."  
> 
>   * velocitygrass asked for "lawyers (don't care what type)"   
> 
> 


### 1\. The Sky Road

Rodney McKay has just finished work on his greatest invention, the M1 marine chronometer. The only trouble is, he can't find a backer to help him test it -- it turns out the rich are all nincompoops who wouldn't know genius if it smacked them in the eye!

On his way to make a final, desperate bid to gain patronage from the Admiralty, McKay is highjacked by ruffians hired by his arch-nemesis Lord Kavanaugh, and finds himself hogtied, weighted and being rowed out into the ocean in the pitch of night.

Sadly for the ruffians, an even bigger ruffian is also lurking in the cove they've chosen for their nefarious work. And so McKay unexpectedly finds himself fast-talking his way out of a watery grave. His audience is a scruffy-haired pirate he only later realises is the disgraced ex-Viscount Sheppard -- mostly thanks to many dull mornings spent listening to Jeannie reading out snippets from the scandal sheets at the breakfast table. Sheppard (according to Jeannie's sources), had absconded from the family estate to join the Navy -- and when Navy wouldn't take him he'd joined up with the East India Company instead. And then Sheppard had refused to fight in the Anglo-Maratha war (which, actually, Rodney thought was a tick in the column of immense good sense), and turned brigand instead.

Sheppard eyes McKay after his slightly nervous outpouring about the benefits of the M1 to a seafaring man. Rodney has carefully unpacked the chronometer from its box and put on display on a handy barrel of salt pork. Sheppard pokes sceptically at the device, and Rodney bites his tongue on a reprimand.

"This thing will really allow us to calculate longitude?" Sheppard says.

"Please," Rodney huffs, losing the battle to be polite. "This is the most precise clock ever invented. It's based around the twin principles of the bimetallic strip and the caged roller bearing, and it has an inaccuracy rate of under half a second per day!"

"Really?" Sheppard drawls, "A bimetallic strip?" and Rodney despairs -- the man is clearly a nitwit after all, just like all the others.

"Well, okay then," Sheppard says, "if it's based on a bimetallic strip, I believe you," and with a few hand gestures to the crew, who have been watching the proceedings with keen interest, Rodney finds himself and his clock stowed aboard the Abergavenny, about to sail off into parts unknown.

 

### 2\. The Sharpest Sting

_THE SCORE_:

 

The Replicators stole the wrong woman when they kidnapped Elizabeth Weir from under Rodney McKay's nose. Now McKay won't rest until he steals her back! It might seem like a hopeless cause -- infiltrating the domain of the most advanced robot-caste the universe has ever seen... but McKay is the greatest genius in two galaxies, and nothing will stop him until he's reclaimed his team leader!

_THE CREW:_   


  

  * Famed for her golden-tongue, Teyla Emmagen is the crew's front woman. Temporarily replacing Elizabeth, she's been lured away from her role as leader of her people by McKay's promise of anti-Wraith technology. She can talk anyone into anything, and even the Wraith fear her psychic skills of persuasion.  

  * The muscle is Ronon Dex. He survived seven years on the run from the Wraith -- no one is faster, tougher, or harder to kill.   

  * It's personal for Laura Cadman: explosive by nature as well as by profession, she can wipe out whole planets with the press of a button, and for what they've done to Elizabeth she can't wait for the chance to help the Replicators go supernova.  

  * And then there's John Sheppard. He was the love of Rodney's life... until Rodney made a mistake that destroyed a solar system and cost him the trust of the one person who mattered. Now Sheppard's back for Elizabeth's sake, once more working as the strategist who'll harness Rodney's genius. But will he and Rodney be able to work together without the old sparks flying?   




_THE CATCH_:

 

Stargate Command have sent out their most fearsome enforcers to bring McKay's Five to justice. No one has ever escaped the combined ingenuity of SG1.

Can McKay steal back Elizabeth, win back John, and escape the wily Samantha Carter of SG1?

Find out in the exciting new release from Atlantis Press, _The Sharpest Sting_!

 

### 3\. McKay's Solution

John's first day on set, he's waved through to make-up by a woman who never stops talking on the phone.

"No, no! You need to get me the giant clam shells, right now!" she snarls, nails like crimson talons jabbing the air in front of John's face.

_Clam shells?_ he mouths, wondering if this is code, and feeling a pang for the familiarity of drill sergeants yelling profanities so loudly you were in danger of their spittle hitting you in the eye. There were no hidden surprises with drill sergeants. He hadn't properly appreciated that until he'd decided to give acting a try.

"What are you? Slow?" Talon demands, and given the ways she's glaring, John thinks maybe now she's actually talking to him. He points to his chest, then off in the direction her talons had indicated, and she nods back at him with an eye-roll and goes right on talking. "Sorry, Carson, just a new face, but the clams are not fucking negotiable."

John heads off in what he thinks is the right direction, and he's about to go down a dingy corridor, when Talon yells, possibly at him: "Tell McKay to thank me!" He turns just in time to see her grinning at him like a shark and it's _creepy_, and then she's gone, vanishing behind a forklift carrying the world's largest pink toilet.

Shrugging, John goes down the dingy corridor and ends up in the make-up room. Centre stage he find a stocky, balding man yelling at a sullen-looking guy with a blond ponytail.

"What part of _high definition_ do you not understand, Kavanaugh?" the stocky guy is saying, arms windmilling everywhere. "There's no leeway with high definition; there's no room for _near enough is good enough_. Trained monkeys could grasp this concept faster, because there's really only one goddamn thing to remember about hi-def. And what is that girls and boys?"

A short guy with Einstein hair and glasses answers, sounding like he's said it about a million times before: "High definition camera sees everything. There is no escaping the eye." He wiggles his eyebrows and his glasses glint as they slide down his nose. He pushes them back up with his thumb and goes back to stringing ribbons through a wig.

The stocky guy is nodding and continuing on like they finish each other's thoughts all the time, "Monkeys can grasp this. Everyone can grasp this, except you, Kavanaugh, and I'm tired of having this conversation. I didn't hire you for your stunning good looks, but under the mistaken impression that you'd actually be able to--"

Einstein has finally caught sight of John and jabs stocky guy in the ribs with his elbow. "Rodney. Look what Cadman has sent you."

"What? What?" Stocky guy swings around, his gaze falling on John like some kind of laser sighting. "Oh, my god. She actually did it."

There's a moment of silence as everyone in the room stares at John. It's even creepier than the look Talon gave him. John's pretty sure the guy with the blond ponytail is drooling.

"Uh," John says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Is there someone called McKay in here?"

Stocky guy huffs loudly, breaking the tension; he looks hugely offended, although John has no idea why. "Yes, McKay is here," he says, and picks up a tin from one of the make-up trolleys and throws it at John, who catches it easily.

John turns the tin over and sees a picture of stocky guy, except thinner and with a lot more hair, and the name, "McKay's Solution -- the original and best for high definition filming."

McKay crosses his arms, and looks John over even more critically. John has never felt more aware of the freckle on his left ear, or the shaving scar just beneath his chin.

"Of course," McKay says, "it would be too much to expect that Cadman could find the perfect face, and make sure there was actually a brain somewhere behind it."

And that, right there, was the moment that John decided his life wouldn't be complete until he'd really fucked with McKay's head. "So," John drawls, as slowly as he can manage. He twirls the make-up tin on one finger, so that the logo is facing McKay, and then adds, "What does this say, anyways? I never was too good at the running writing."

In the silence that follows, Rodney's face goes so red, John wonders for a moment it he might actually stroke out.

 

### 4\. Breaking the Law

They've been stuck in the library for seven hours, Rodney hunched over the Canadian case-law, John hunched over the American. They're down in the bowels of the building, so there shouldn't be any way of knowing that it's the middle of the night without looking at a clock. But John can tell -- there's something about the quality of the silence, the way he can hear the aircon cutting in and out, and the distant hum of some really big machine chugging away behind a couple of layers of concrete. There's no one else around.

John's eyes feel gritty, his skin like stretched paper, all the moisture sucked away by the dry air and book dust.

On the other side of the table, Rodney is blocked in by precarious towers of books, some open and face down at a potentially relevant page. He's leaning on one fisted hand, eyes slitted with tiredness, his mouth drooping even more than usual. The book in front of him is written in small, dark lettering that makes John's head ache just looking at it.

"Pssst," John says, because if he doesn't take a break he's going to start setting off fire alarms or maybe scribbling in the margins.

"What?" Rodney says, with hardly a trace of his usual bite.

"I've had an idea."

"I guess there's a first time for everything." But Rodney closes his book and perks up a bit.

John doesn't really believe he's going to say it until he does. "We should go look at the 346s."

Both Rodney's eyebrows levitate up to his hairline. "The 346s?" he echoes and shifts a little in his seat.

John licks his lips. "Yeah." God, he hasn't been back to the 346s since his intern year.

"Oh," Rodney says, flushing bright red. He looks around a little wildly, as though expecting someone to leap out and say _Ahah! Caught you thinking about sex!_ And then he draws in a deep breath, looks John in the eye and says, "Okay."

And that's how, five minutes later, John finds himself pressed up against a shelf of musty books in the little alcove dedicated to the history of copyright, a raggedy old edition of Patterson digging into his spine, and Rodney McKay attacking his mouth as though climbing into John's skin is the only thing he's ever wanted to do.

Rodney's dick is a hard line against John's thigh, and John doesn't even hesitate, just pops Rodney's buttons and gets it out, pushes his own pants down with his other hand, and then holds their dicks together in the tunnel of his palm.

Rodney groans into his mouth, and if there were anyone else around to hear, they would -- he's loud and frantic, his hips pushing fast, _fast_, his dick slipping against John's.

"Oh, God," Rodney says, breathing like that time the lifts broke down and he ran fifteen flights of stairs to make it to court on time. "This is... you're so... oh, _John_."

And John just has time to register the _want_ in Rodney's voice that's more than just here and now, just has time to think, _Oh, shit, what have I done?_ and then Rodney clamps his hand down over John's, whimpers John's name in his ear, and covers John's dick in a slick of come; and that's it, that's all it takes -- bright lights flash behind John's eyelids and he comes and comes all over Rodney's hand, and his own pants, and a brand new copy of Lindberg that one of them must have knocked onto the floor.


End file.
